


Only the Moon Howls

by iteezwhatiteez



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Dhampirs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fantasy, Magic, Romance, Slow Burn, Vampires, Werewolves, starts at the beginning of Season 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iteezwhatiteez/pseuds/iteezwhatiteez
Summary: As she approached his hunched figure, her heart sank at how tired he seemed. So much smaller than himself.Oh Alucard, what did they do to you?“You’ve convinced yourself that somehow, you deserve more strife than the next man,” she sat into his lap and cupped his face gently. “But happiness is not a privilege and pain is not assigned.” Kamaria looked into his eyes and kissed him, soft as rain. When she pulled away, she rested her forehead onto his and sighed, sadly. “We just haven’t been so lucky.”
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

_1476 A.C._ _Present day_

As Kamaria broached the valley in which stood Dracula’s Castle, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of her luck. She’d spent the last year in search of the legendary fortress, to no avail. Even with her expert tracking, the castle was as elusive as it was mysterious, jumping from place to place as soon as she had a wisp of its trail.

So, for her to stumble upon the Gothic fortress after she’d abandoned her search for it was not only a ridiculous twist of fate, but felt like an elaborate hoax at the hands of a god who’d been cruel at worst and unhelpful at best in all her three hundred years of existence.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she looked towards the Heavens pointedly. “Up yours.”

When her leads to the castle had dried up a few months ago, she’d decided to look for the Belmont estate. An underground sea of sunken knowledge, forsaken by the God-fearing humans of Wallachia, and buried under the rubble left from their rampage of the Belmont home. And in that trove of treasure was a mirror, supposedly with the ability to seek what the heart wanted, similar to the one said to be in Dracula’s possession, though less powerful. It was less ideal, but it had been her only hope at finding the bastard.

_And now here he is, with his stupid castle in the last place I expected it to be._

She was quickly losing daylight, and after having travelled all day, she was satisfied with her progress. She decided she would descend into the valley but remain on its edge and make her way towards the Belmont Estate in the morning. Part of her wanted to race towards the castle, but the knowledge of the man it held inside made her hesitate. Vlad Dracula Ţepeş, King of the Night and Lord of the Vampires.

A tremor went down her back, thinking of the name. She’d been in search of him for almost a year. A man who, according to legend, had killed wantonly for centuries. Who had long since forgotten his ties to humanity, and who would recognize her immediately as his natural enemy: a lycanthrope. It would almost certainly lead to her death, but then again, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

She had _been_ everywhere; she had seen enough. Almost three hundred maddening years old, and with no tangible end in sight. She’d been to the furthest corners of Europe, Asia and Africa, she’d seen the wonders of human ingenuity and the horrors of its idiocy, and she’d tasted all the ale this side of the fucking Atlantic. Truly, if anyone deserved to rest in bloody peace, it was her.

“So why am I here chasing down fucking Dracula?” she sighed, though her heart sank. She knew why.

***

_1475 A.C._

“Send that bastard Dracula to Hell for me,” Brandan had sputtered, bloodily coughing as his chest struggled to rise.

She’d held his hand firmly, clutching it against her chest as she sat beside his weakening body. His grasp kept loosening, she could hear the dying beat of his heart, and every second between its resounding _da dum_ seemed like a cruel eternity. She no longer heard the chaos of the surrounding village, being torn to shreds by the night hoards. Only those shallow thumps and the increasing silence between them.

“I’ve known you for a hundred years and I’ve never done anything for you,” she tried lightheartedly, but the tremble in her voice gave her away. She cleared it and smiled tightly. “Why start now?”

“Oh, give a dying man a chance,” he flashed an unconcerned grin, and before she could wonder how he could possibly find it within himself to joke about the situation, his body was racked with a horrible cough. As he curled within himself, clutching his stomach, she slid her hand under his head and held him against her. She could feel his bloody hand clutching her shirt, as if it were the last tangible thing he could feel.

“I don’t think you’ve ever held me this tightly,” he wheezed between coughs. “Hell, I don’t think you’ve ever held me at all.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Her chin rested on his head, and she could feel her tears matting his hair. He pulled away enough to look up at her.

“You’ll be all right, eh?” She wiped away a tear that had made its way down his cheek. She knelt down behind his weakening body and let him rest against her. And as she spoke the last words he would ever listen to, she thought she could hear the tearing of both their hearts.

She kissed the back of his head gently as she continued to watch the rise and fall of his chest. _Please_ , she thought, each time it went down. _Just one more time_. 

“Of course I will,” she whispered.

And as if he’d been waiting for her permission, Kamaria watched his chest fall with one last sigh. Never to rise back up.

***

_1476 A.C. Present day_

Brendan had been the last of her pack. He’d died, gutted by one of Dracula’s night hoards.

So much time had passed… Kamaria’s heart sunk into a deep familiar pain as she continued to make her way through the forest, and before she could help it her eyes welled up.

She paused and quickly wiped them away in frustration. _Enough_ , she thought. _At least find a place to sleep before you start crying like a fucking baby_. She walked a little further towards the estate, and when she estimated that the underground library was a few kilometers further inland, she happened upon a small clearing. Kamaria settled on a large tree whose roots offered minimal shelter from the breeze.

She knew the wind wouldn’t bother her on this midsummer night, already willing the warmth of her body to spread to the furthest reaches of her limbs. Lycanthropes had an almost bottomless pool of body heat to generate warmth, so long as they were in good health. Still, having some respite for the wind meant she would have to spend less energy keeping warm, and considering she had no desire to go hunting anywhere near the castle, it was better for her and her limited supply of food.

Before she sat down, she unsheathed her glaive from the leather on her side and put down her bow and arrow. The glaive’s black blade reflected eerily in the moonlight and seemed to glow faintly in the encroaching darkness. She willed the hilt of the weapon to extend to its full glory and couldn’t help but marvel at the ingenuity of its craft as its retractable shaft expanded to its full length.

As she ran her fingers along the edge of the magic black stone, she couldn’t help but shudder at the cold emanating from it. Immediately she felt the heat slipping from her fingers, disappearing into it.

She set the blade across her lap and pulled out a glass vial of olive oil. She’d freshly acquired the oil from a merchant in Targoviste, but she’d originally stolen the bottle while passing through the Holy Empire a few hundred years ago. She forgot the story behind it exactly, something about a roman noble who’d tried to steal her into slavery.

After her father’s death, she’d headed further East into the land of the Romans. Wounded and weak, she learned very quickly to avoid major roads and cities. The colour of her skin and her lack of ownership attracted unwanted attention, not to mention the suspicious nature of her spear, whose unorthodox colour and gold detailing were easily noticed by everyone she met. It had gotten stolen multiple times in her sleep before she learned how to conceal it properly by retracting the shaft and carrying it at her hip, rather than in her hand for all to see.

Kamaria shook her head as she wiped the oil across the blade of her glaive and willed herself to focus on the sounds around her. She could hear the soft breaths of a sleeping mouse in a nearby birch tree, as well as the crawling of a group of boars on top of the clearing behind her. The owl she’d heard earlier was still hooting, and the sound of its voice blended with the symphony of nocturnal life reminded her how heavy her eyelids were.

She finished polishing the blade and sheathed it for the night. Werewolf minds had the ability to extend beyond themselves. It mainly helped to keep pack members connected but it could also serve other purposes, with much greater effort. As she curled up under her tree, she let her mind drift out as far as she could. She filtered out the simple thoughts of the nightlife. In fact, thoughts were an easy overestimation. Animals weren’t governed by thought, but rather a simple set of desires which was the base of their entire behaviour. Eating, shitting, mating… _Not a bad life_ , she thought.

She expanded her mind outwards until it reached the edge of the Belmont Estate and Dracula’s castle. The strain of it was starting to make her head buzz and she considered retiring for the night. There was no telling if Dracula would be able to sense her, but somehow, she didn’t doubt that it was well within his capabilities. She’d never encountered a vampire as powerful or as dangerous, and it was probably prudent to proceed with the utmost care.

_Ah, fuck it_ , she thought. Curiosity got the best of her as she willed her conscience to seek out whatever she could find within the underground library and the dark fortress. She sensed restless rodents in the Belmont hold, as well as a few mice and, bizarrely, a cat in the fortress. She probed its mind in search of any possible information on the castle, but cats are simply unencumbered creatures with no possible care for details about people who don’t feed them. She doubted that Dracula had a soft spot for starving felines and was about to continue her search when in the cat’s mind she found a memory of a hand, offering up pieces of meat. There was no clear view of a face, only the sight of a tall figure’s golden hair cascading around its extended hand, stretching out to offer the cat food.

The cat salivated at the memory, and in so caused her to salivate reciprocally. She immediately pulled back from its mind. Mind expansion was a two-way process. You could look into someone (or in this case, _something_ ), but that meant you allowed it access to you. Most people didn’t know how to take advantage of the connection, and certainly not animals, but their impulses were so inherently primal that they slipped through her mind easily and could cause her to mirror certain reactions when she wasn’t paying attention.

Her temple was pulsing with the strain, and she reluctantly decided that it was time to end her search for now. But before that, she pushed it further one last time. She liked to imagine that if she could reach far enough, they’d be able to hear her. All the people she’d lost. As if she could break the barriers of death and send them a message.

_I love you and I miss you dearly. With all my being._

_I won’t be long now. I promise._

She waited a few more seconds for a response, but as usual, nothing came of it. With that, Kamaria closed her eyes and quieted her mind for the night. She willed herself to fall asleep to the sound of a mother mole and her pups sleeping in a borough under her, but it wasn’t before prickly tears streamed silently down her face that she fell asleep.

Though saddened, a feeling of peace washed over as she quietly thought to the reason she’d come here, to how close she was to her goal. The closer she’d ever been.

“I’ve come to kill Dracula,” she whispered, trying to mask the thought that bloomed in her mind.

_I’ve come to die_ , it said.


	2. Chapter 2

_“I love you and I miss you dearly_.”

Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş, commonly known as Alucard, jolted awake as a voice that wasn’t his spoke through his mind. The rest of the message lingered, soft and sorrowful.

_“I won’t be long now. I promise.”_

He immediately wondered if this was one of the lasting memories of the castle that insisted on haunting him. Many a night he’d woken up with visions from long ago, that had somehow melded themselves with the spirit of the fortress. They were often happy echoes of the life he’d lived under this roof. Sights of himself, young and playful, immersed in games with his mother. His father’s memories, from long before the madness of grief had consumed him.

Alucard remembered one night, a few days after he’d been left alone with the broken fortress and the Belmont Estate, when a vision of his mother had spoken clearly for the first time. He’d been busy cleaning up the laboratory when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a younger version of himself, immersed in a book about alchemy. He would have ignored the sight, had he not heard his mother behind him.

_He’s growing up so fast_ , she whispered to him, or rather to his father, who had been standing in his place at the time. _Can you believe we made something so beautiful?_

He froze, not daring to look at her. When he finally mounted up the courage to turn around, she had disappeared, and he could no longer see his younger self reading in the corner. His chest tightened as he slid to the ground and curled into himself. He couldn’t breathe, he could barely think. Often, the visions left him shaken but this one had been like a blow to the chest. A dull, crushing weight pressed against his heart as he gripped his head in his hands. At first the tears slid silently down his face, but they rapidly evolved into full sobs. Before he could prevent it, his mind drifted to his last moments with his father.

_It’s our boy, Lisa. Your greatest gift to me, and I’m killing him…_

_I must already be dead._

The words had seared themselves into him. They burned every time he remembered them, and the pain never dulled. When he’d first heard them, he had hoped, despite himself, that Dracula’s recognition of his folly meant that he could stop. That he’d gotten his father back. But when the vampire admitted that he must be dead, Alucard knew. His father was dead and gone, there was no soul left to redeem. There was nothing but a shell of a man, tethering the count’s broken soul to a realm in which they both knew he didn’t belong. There was no option but the stake.

He knew that in those final moments his father had bore no ill will towards him, and that when Alucard had finally driven the stake through his heart he had actually considered it a kindness. Final respite against the cruel world that had stripped him of the love of his life. Before Alucard had closed his eyes in the moment, he remembered the fondness in his father’s gaze. And yet, every time his mind wasn’t occupied, when it drifted to that day, all he could hear was the distinct crunch of the wooden stake ripping through his father’s heart. The sound of tearing flesh and the forceful push against ribcage. The feeling of his father’s body going limp with immediate desiccation. The haunting image of his lifeless, ashen body reaching towards him. The pure horror Alucard had felt, staring into the empty eye sockets of his father’s twisted face as the latter’s hands reached to envelop him before Trevor had ceremoniously separated Dracula’s head from his weary corpse.

Alucard’s mind was pushed into the present at the thought of one of his former travel companions. He tried to shake off his melancholy as he got out of bed and shuffled towards the open window. He leaned over the rampart, hoping to find solace in the cool night air.

Thinking about the hunter had elicited a different kind of grief. It had been almost a month since his companions, vampire hunter Trevor Belmont and Speaker magician Sypha Belnades had left the estate. How long had it been? About a month? He marveled at the passing of time. It had somehow felt like they’d left him here for ages, so much so that sometimes he wondered if he’d imagined their company.

The loneliness had set in the moment Belmont had waved his last goodbye as he and Sypha rode away for Braila, and it hadn’t left since. He tried not to feel abandoned. The castle and the Belmont estate couldn’t be left unattended to for people to loot. At best their contents would end up in the hands of ignorant thieves, and at worst, powerful enemies. It was of utmost importance that they remained guarded, and that they were rebuilt. However, sometimes he lamented that he hadn’t even offered to accompany them on the rest of their journey.

He missed Sypha’s clever intellect, and her tenderness. He even missed the insufferable quips and taunts he’d gotten used to receiving from the Belmont. Most of all, he missed the sound of conversation. The silence had rapidly become so unnerving that Alucard had taken to the habit of remaining outside, just to hear the constant bustling of wildlife. He’d already begun to dread the coming winter months, not because of the cold, but because there would be no more wildlife to hear, and the silence that already filled his days would grow even more oppressing.

Which is why when he’d been forced awake by the sound of an unfamiliar voice in his head, it had been jarring. He, of course, assumed that it was one of the hallucinations brought on by the castle, but they so rarely spoke to him and they were becoming fewer and fewer these days. Alucard didn’t know if he was relieved that sights of his mother were scarcer and scarcer. Truthfully, it scared him. The idea of never seeing her again.

He was about to turn away from the window and lay back in bed when the wind shifted suddenly, the breeze whistling in his ear. Alucard’s nostrils flared as they caught a whiff of something atypical in the air. He knew the scent pattern of the surrounding forest like the back of his hand, because truthfully, the entire valley’s olfactory landscape was comprised of wood, wood animals, sometimes mixed with the humidity of the freshwater river that bordered the south edge of the forest. So, when anything slightly unfamiliar breached the normalcy of the surrounding estate, he could tell _almost immediately_.

The scent was of the same earthy, soil-like nature of most of the surrounding woods, but beneath that… Alucard failed to come up with words to describe it. It was barely perceptible, and so he leaned out the window, closed his eyes and _concentrated_. He came to the conclusion that he had never smelled anything like it in his life.

Alucard had come to the undoubtable conclusion that this was a person. That was another quality to the scent he couldn’t explain. It smelled— no, it _unmistakably felt_ alive. He knew the smell of death, or rather the smell of decay and rot, but generally living things were characterised by a lack of that. But this person’s scent had the unmistakeable dynamicity of a living, breathing being, as well as the vital flair of danger.

From the moment it reached him, he had no doubt that the person behind this mysterious aroma was the most dangerous person he’d ever come across. There was something deep within him, a primal instinct, that filled him with immense apprehension. Whatever had ventured into his woods was a threat that made him stand on edge.

With trepidation, Alucard retreated into his room, at the search of his sword.

***

_The girl is thirteen, running desperately through the forest that surrounds her village. The sound of her boots resounds against the fallen snow. Nothing else makes a sound, and yet she knows she is closely followed by a Beast. Her lungs ache as she wills herself to run faster on her already aching ankle. “Faster,” she cries to herself. Its hot breath is at her heels. The Beast is gaining on her. She can feel her eyes begin to water as the terror bulges in her throat. Suddenly, a fallen log. She climbs it frantically, straining her damaged ankle, and as she falls to the other side, she crawls backwards into a snow-filled clearing._

_Silence._

_Her sobs are the only thing that disturbs the dead of night._

_Her panicked eyes sweep around, and she tries to stand but her ankle buckles under her weight and she cries out in pain._

_She crawls even further back. Where is it? Where is it?_

_Where is it?_

_Her sobs continue to fill the clearing. “Papa,” she cries, “where are you?”_

_Papa is gone. Far away. She knows he is nowhere near and yet she still calls for him._

_She is on the other side now. She can see the log over which she came, but no sign of the Beast._

_She starts to grow quiet. The cold is seeping into her, she can barely feel her fingers._

_She is near the tree line now, and as she struggles to stand, her blood freezes at the sound of a twig cracking behind her._

_She cannot turn around. Her legs do not move when she commands them to run. Her body is frozen by terror alone._

_“I must run,” she thinks. “Please,” she begs herself and God._

_Without looking, she lunges forward, at the same time as the Beast descends upon her._

***

Kamaria barely startled as she woke; it was an old dream, and the familiarity of it now kept her company. Something else worried her, however: she had been discovered much earlier than she’d anticipated. She could hear the soft footfalls approaching where she lay, coming from the castle’s direction and she cursed when she realized they were less than half a mile away and approaching rapidly.

There was no time to make a quick escape. The figure was too close for her to outrun now. Vampires were incredibly quick, and even if she turned into her wolf form, they would be neck and neck. Her only option was to stand her ground, which was less than ideal. She wasn’t fearful exactly; she’d always known an encounter with Dracula was inevitable. And no matter how powerful he truly was, wolves were fearsome predators. The original vampire hunters from days of old. _Let him come_ , she thought. _Let this end._

She decided to stay lying down: if she would die soon, she might as well stay comfortable for as long as possible. However, she reached out with her mind towards her glaive. It hummed as she willed it slowly out of its sheath. The air around the blade immediately grew frigid as she commanded the staff to fully extend and make a large arc around the nearby woods. She felt the blade circle through the forest, slashing through leaves and foliage. As the blade approached the rear of her attacker, it slowed, growing more silent as it followed the creature of the night. She tried looking through the blade with her mind’s eye, but the process was always hazy. What she saw was indiscernible; a world reflected in a dark metallic sheen. But if she focused straight on, she could see a golden lustre far off in the darkness. It flowed calmly behind the figure as he progressed through the forest, sword drawn.

Suddenly, she willed the blade to halt. The figure had stopped, pausing to crouch behind a large tree. He saw her, she realized. He was a few meters from where she lay. She slowed her heartbeat, hoping to pass herself off as being asleep. She could hear him now, at the edge of her small clearing. The blood rushing through his veins, the sound of his heartbeat, rapid and—

Wait. _Heartbeat?_ She thought to herself, her eyes opening in shock. _That’s impossibl—_

As soon as she was distracted the stranger made his move.


	3. Chapter 3

Alucard looked upon the curious stranger with apprehension. He couldn’t see much of the curled-up figure; they were mostly covered by a heavy cloak. He could see a head of curls peek out from under it, but it shrouded most of their face. The scent he’d followed was unmistakeably theirs, and despite the person’s inoffensive disposition, everything about the sight of them made Alucard stand on edge. And the more he stared; the more things seemed to grow amiss. He couldn’t pinpoint the change until moments later when he took a deep breath and noticed that the scent seemed to be… fading?

He breathed in again to reassure himself and found that it grew more and more difficult to detect the scent. It seemed to him as if the surrounding smells of the forest were a blanket that this stranger had skillfully pulled over themselves. Leave anything in a place long enough and it’ll assimilate the olfactory qualities of its surroundings, but this was different. Purposeful. Had he been more distracted, he would have missed the figure entirely, and even so, he was relying more and more on his eyesight to make sure he wasn’t imagining their presence. As time went by, only one thing grew clearer in certainty: whoever or whatever this was, it made him more than nervous. Quite unsure how to proceed, he wondered if it would be more prudent to retreat and approach the stranger at daylight.

_I don’t even know what I’m fighting_ , he chided himself. He tried reasoning that his lack of contact with other intelligent beings for so long had made him paranoid. With no concrete idea as to who this stranger was, or even if they meant him harm, he decided it would be best to return to the safety of the castle. He expected that when daylight came, he could approach them reasonably and assess their intentions, if they even had any.

_Look at you, preying upon innocent travellers_ , he teased himself. _Trying to become an old wives’ tale, Alucard?_

He hesitated to put his back towards the stranger, unable to shake the sense of danger emanating from them. When he finally convinced himself that he was bordering ridicule, he turned around swiftly and—

Was suddenly staring down the blade of an onyx glaive which, had he been any slower, would have skewered the tip of his nose. Unfortunately, as Alucard stepped back he misjudged the placement of a tree root behind him and stumbled into the clearing.

Now, for all intents and purposes, it must be said: Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş didn’t _trip_. Perhaps in that particular moment, he wasn’t the epitome of grace, but he still managed to rapidly twist around and land on his knee, using his sword as an impromptu staff. He shook his head in mild embarrassment, glad that there was no one around to notice his blunder. He was prepared to retreat to the castle once and for all and put this bizarre night behind him. He’d found a mysterious stranger and a floating glaive and—

_Shit_. Before he could dash away, Alucard was forced to attention by the feel of an icy blade slashing through his shoulder.

***

The vampire, or whatever it was, was on the other side of the clearing in a flash of red by the time the glaive made its way back to her hand. Kamaria held it firmly, ready for the next attack.

Golden irises stared intently at her through hooded eyelids in the darkness. The _creature_ was crouched in the shadow of a tree opposite her, clutching his right shoulder. He was breathing more heavily, probably combatting the effects of her magic blade. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would slow him down.

She tried analyzing the impossible vampire; in the faint gleam of the moonlight she could see a pointed jawline clenched in pain. The figure had sharp, angular features framed by lengthy golden locks. His half-open mouth parted to reveal pointed fangs that shone against the moonlight. He looked young, mid-twenties at the most, but there was no telling how old he actually was. Legend’s said Dracula was the oldest vampire in existence, and though she doubted that was the case, she knew he was definitely centuries older than her. But after her recent discovery, she was starting to doubt that the being before her even _was_ Dracula.

Could vampires acquire a heartbeat? She wondered pensively, almost questioning her senses. And yet, there was the undoubtable sound of a heart, strong and pulsating against the dead of night. There was no uncertainty pertaining the vampiric nature of this stranger, however. Not only could she see the fangs, but she could _smell_ him. There was a cold, almost metallic quality that undertoned the scent emanating from him; fainter than the rest of his kind but there, nonetheless. And yet, it was there, the sound of a heart uncharacteristically alive. _Maybe he’s just fed_ , she thought to herself. And yet she knew it was something different. She had never encountered a creature like this before, and something about it sent a tremor down her spine.

_What are you?_ she wondered, clutching her glaive a little tighter.

***

Alucard cursed under his breath, his throbbing shoulder growing increasingly numb by the minute. He wasn’t healing the way he usually would, and there was a bizarre coldness spreading from his wound.

He looked onto the unfamiliar figure, which now stood opposite to him on the other side of the clearing, glaive in hand and ready to attack. A young maiden of dark complexion stood before him, draped in a cloak as black as night, lined with pale white fur. He could see under it, pale shirt and leather trousers. He kept his sights on the stygian coloured spear she held next to her before he looked up to study her face.

High cheekbones framed a slightly upturned nose and full lips drawn tight with suspense. The figure’s jawline clenched tightly as black curls draped around her oval face while she stared at him with suspicion.

He had noticed the woman’s eyes almost right away, by the way they almost seemed to draw moonlight in towards themselves. They shone in the dark; a bright, warm hazel with hints of gold flecks, and they were unmissable in the night. As they crossed eyes, Alucard couldn’t help but feel that the strangers’ eyes bore intimately into his mind, as if searching for something.

Still in pain from his wound, he decided he would remain where he was. If this fight were to continue, she would have to make the first move.

***

The stranger was staring at her, and Kamaria couldn’t help but feel her cheeks grow slightly warm at the intensity of his gaze. He made no attempt to approach her and so there they stood, eyes locked on each other, tense with expectation.

One thing was for sure, she wasn’t about to charge headfirst towards the most powerful vampire of the Night. Her play would remain defensive unless necessary, and so there was nothing left to do but wait. And maybe _look_.

People said the eyes were the windows to the soul, and whilst that wasn’t exactly true, they did provide a chink that allowed one’s mind to peer out, or even allow another to peer _in_. Kamaria evaluated the risk of her idea somewhat carelessly. They were locked in a game of cat and mouse at the moment, and she didn’t know which player she actually was.

Slipping into the impossible vampire’s mind would allow her a brief look into his motivations and possibly cede her the upper hand by showing her his next move. It wasn’t without danger though. Entering someone’s mind was an invasive and consuming experience, and it was easy to get distracted. Especially with old minds: they had so many memories that you could discern almost nothing from the surface and looking for information could feel like swimming endlessly towards the bottom of an ocean. There was also the risk of being found out, which she could guarantee would bring on the wrath of her opponent. Most people did not take kindly to their thoughts being spied on.

Still hesitant, she focused on the crouched shape in the distance. He was still clutching his shoulder, and to that she smirked slightly and thanked her blade. Even vampire healing was muddled by the cold magic of her weapon. She noticed the sword he held tightly in the hand of his injured arm, which was as unusually long as it was slender. It shimmered, catching the light of the almost full moon.

She didn’t know how long both of them remained still, staring at each other, and frankly she was starting to grow impatient. _Just kill me already_ , she almost transmitted to him in extreme annoyance. Kamaria patience had run thin. With irritated resolution she looked deep into the vampire’s golden orbs and _pushed_.

***

He felt the incursion immediately. Perhaps the stranger thought that he wouldn’t notice it, he imagined that humans often didn’t, but Alucard’s mind was razor-sharp and it did not take keenly to _probing_.

A sudden anger submerged him as he dropped his sword, teleported forward towards the stranger and pinned her against a tree trunk forcibly, his uninjured arm pressing uncomfortably against her neck.

“Stay out of my mind,” he hissed.

He immediately felt the sting of her blade pass through his right Achilles’ heel as the woman used the momentum of his body dropping to the floor to arch her body against the tree and kick him across the face. He called to his sword, and it rushed past him over his shoulder towards the cloaked woman, its edged tip about to impale her heart—

When her onyx blade intercepted his attack as she ducked rapidly, grabbed both weapons and kicked him to the ground. As Alucard lay on his back his opponent hovered over him with her glaive and his longsword downturned and crossed both weapons over his neck, ready to separate his head from his body at the slightest hint of resistance.

_I’m going to die here_ , he thought, and the realization brought him nothing. Neither joy nor sorrow. He had planned to die after all the business with his father had ended anyways, and he’d only held on out of obligation because the Belmont had idiotically offered him his rundown estate. At least this way, his demise wasn’t a betrayal to his friends. He had been slain in battle and had died by someone else’s hands, as was the cruel nature of his existence. Alucard had many enemies, and finally one of them had risen up to the challenge.

Defeated, he closed his eyes and awaited the slash of the blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm... seems like those two got off to a rough start


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awfully tense beginnings...

As she stared at the beautiful stranger before her, body limp and eyes closed in defeat, Kamaria thought back to what she had seen, or rather _felt_ when she’d probed the vampire’s mind.

Her entry into his psyche had been brief; even she was surprised at how quickly the nightcrawler had sensed her presence, but she supposed she shouldn’t. Even though she was now sure the man lying before her wasn’t Dracula. His mind had felt much too young, though undoubtedly powerful.

“If you’re waiting for me to die of old age, then we’ll be here a while.”

His voice was low and barely emotive. He bore the familiar accent of a Wallachian, but it was crisper, betraying a highly educated background. His noble descent was unquestionable.

“Perhaps I am waiting to see why you are so eager to get yourself killed,” she quipped. Because it was undoubtable. She’d felt it the moment their minds touched— an intangible grief that had no end. Kamaria had barely breached the surface of it and yet she knew it intimately. The feeling was eerily familiar.

The young man obstinately kept his mouth shut and stared at her defiantly. In that moment, Kamaria made a decision that bordered on insanity. She sighed, lifting the weapons she held in her hand up in a gesture of peace. She willed the Ebony blade to retract into its compact form and return into its sheath, still between the large roots of the tree she’d been sleeping under. She cautiously kept her hand on the vampire’s longsword however, which he eyed suspiciously before closing his eyes again.

Annoyed, Kamaria nudged his side with her foot somewhat harshly as she leaned onto his tower of a sword. Seriously, it was barely a head shorter than her. She had trained with longswords under her father before, but this one was freakishly long. It had to be cumbersome during battle, she thought. Realizing that her mind had drifted again, she looked down onto the handsome stranger who was _still_ pretending to ignore her.

In irritation, Kamaria angled her foot back a little for momentum and let it fly. Big mistake—

The vampire blocked her kick swiftly and grabbed her lower leg with a firm hand. His own blade was instantly pressed tightly on his throat, and she could see it sharp edge draw droplets of blood.

“Are you _trying_ to annoy me to death? Because you might be succeeding,” he sniggered as he put down her foot and she reluctantly removed the sword from his neck.

“You know where I come from, people at least introduce themselves before they try to kill me.”

“Then perhaps you should have stayed there,” he muttered dryly, having noticed her accent. She glared at him, muttering a quick “ _Imbecile_ ” before angling his sword so that she could make use of its flat surface— and whacked him on the head with it. The vampire glowered murderously in her direction, but Kamaria, for some reason, wasn’t afraid anymore. If someone was going to die tonight, it would have happened by now.

“Have some manners,” she snapped. Grudgingly, the creature of the Night sat up, shaking his head in contempt.

“My name is Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş, better known as Alucard,” he sighed. “Son of Lisa of Lupu.”

“And Vlad Dracula Ţepeş,” she guessed.

Alucard’s face turned into a grimace. “And Vlad Dracula Ţepeş.”

_Dracula has a **son**_ , the words swirled around her head, creating a never-ending sea of questions. Not a sire, a _son_. Part-human as well. She couldn’t help but ponder as to the how and when and _why_. Especially the why. Why would a blood draining immortal bastard want to conceive, and with that more questions bore themselves into her mind, distracting her from the present situation. How could vampires even conceive? They were extensions of Death; how could they bring life into the world? And somewhere, at the back of her mind, a question she did everything to push out of her mind formed itself. Did baby vampires suckle on their mothers’ teat or at their neck?

“So, Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş,” she crouched beside him, so that they were eye-to-eye. “Do you often go about preying on inoffensive young maidens in the dead of night?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call you inoffensive.” She smirked at that. In that moment, Kamaria made a decision that many in her place would have deemed pure folly. She stood up, sword in hand and pointed it towards Alucard, at which he backed away warily.

“You and I,” she said, pressing the blade lightly on the bare bit of chest that crept out of his shirt, “are going to get along.”

“Is that a threat?” he asked sarcastically.

“Obviously.” With that she dropped the long sword into the vampire’s lap. He caught it and looked at her dubiously. Then, against every instinct that had kept her alive this long, Kamaria turned her back to him and went to retrieve her affairs under a tree nearby. She willed herself to appear calm, but her mind raced frantically as she tried to come up with a plan. If she could find a way to get Dracula’s son to let her into the castle, then there was hope— or at least, more hope than there’d been before. Turning up at Dracula’s door with his son seemed like a good contingency plan. Turning up with his bloodied and beaten son, however… _Shit_ , she thought to herself. _One thing at a time Kamaria. Just find a way inside_.

***

As Alucard watched the curious acquaintance he’d made, he wondered if this was all a dream. Why wasn’t he dead? It bewildered him. He watched her lazily, noticing the way her hair bounced against her shoulders as she strode towards the edge of the clearing and knelt down to assemble her belongings. She kept her back to him in a seemingly unassuming stance, which bewildered him. There was no doubt she was a skilled fighter; Alucard had wounds to prove it. However, this was completely idiotic. She knew he could control his sword telekinetically, and here she was, facing away from him, at his mercy. At any moment Alucard could command his sword to skewer her heart from behind. _Surely, she must be aware of that_ , he thought.

It was at this moment that he realized the woman had remained frozen in place for the better part of his inner monologue. She had a hand gripped tightly on her spear, whose sheath she had now fastened to her leather belt. Her back was still to him, and yet she seemed tense, as if preparing for an imminent attack. Alucard was pensive for a moment before horror set in at his lack of cognizance.

_“Stay the fuck. Out of my head_ ,” he thought out as his hand squeezed around his longsword.

At that the woman resumed her actions, shuffling her few belongings into her pack. Soon again she paused.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered under her breath. Ordinarily, it would have been barely perceptible to the human ear, but Alucard could make out clearly what she said. “I don’t realize I’m doing it most of the time, and if I make contact with a mind once, sometimes their thoughts just slip in.”

She picked up her pack and started making her way towards him carefully. As she made her way back, she looked at him intently in the eyes. Alucard was once again about to lash out when she heard her voice clearly in his head.

_“You think pretty loudly, you know_?”

“Well, I’ve never had any previous complaints,” he snapped. She looked away and muttered a quick “sorry”, though it seemed less sincere to him this time. In all his annoyance, Alucard hadn’t noticed that something seemed different about her. He searched her face intently for what had changed when it struck him—

“Your eyes—” he started. They no longer shone in the dark, and had reverted to a rich, dark brown. Many vampires possessed the ability to change their eye colour with age, preferring to opt out of the cliché blood-red glare associated with the species. She wasn’t a vampire though. There wasn’t a hint of anything undead about her.

“What about them?”

“They changed.” At that she raised her eyebrow.

“Are you… surprised?” she teased.

_Well, your eyes were shining in the fucking dark_ , he thought to himself.

“I didn’t want to freak you out.” With that she stretched and started walking towards the opposite edge of the clearing, in the castle’s direction. When she’d taken a few steps without hearing him stir, she looked back at him expectantly. “Well?”

“Well, what?” he challenged.

“Aren’t you coming?” She nodded towards the castle. Alucard decided to feign ignorance by tilting his head. The stranger rolled her eyes.

“Here I was, calmly enjoying my sleep when a creepy, blood lusty vampire tried to attack me in the middle of the night,” she looked pointedly toward him. “I’d say he owes me a meal and a comfortable bed, don’t you?”

“I’m not a vampire,” he muttered under his breath.

“Right, _sorry_ ,” she said, her voice dripping with mirth. “ _Dhampir_.” She sounded the word she’d plucked out of his mind.

Alucard did nothing but roll his eyes.

“Anyways, I’m getting more tired and hungry by the minute.” With that she crossed her arms and leaned against a neighboring tree, waiting for him to move.

Alucard sighed. “Oh, fuck me.”

“ _At least serve me dinner first,”_ her joking voice resonated in his mind as he stood up. It took him by surprise, and he winced as he ignorantly put weight on his right foot and tried to walk forward. He almost face-planted before his curious new company stood in-front of him, palms against his chest, and help him upright. He was surprised at her strength, bearing the brunt of his weight with ease as he tried to stabilize himself. She tried lifting his right arm over her shoulder, forgetting about Alucard’s injury until he groaned audibly. At that she switched to his left side.

“He’s beauty, he’s grace,” she goaded.

“Shut up,” he groaned. But he was thankful he hadn’t fallen and taken a mouthful of dirt. This stranger had bested him in hand-to-hand combat already; there was no need for further embarrassment. He tried to put weight on his right foot, more gently this time, but at the slightest mount of pressure pain spiked through his leg. Alucard groaned loudly.

“I should be healing by now.”

“Oh,” his assailant looked away guiltily. “Um, about that…” she started walking forward, with Alucard’s arm still over her shoulder. Begrudgingly, he started limping beside her. He expected her to continue talking but she remained quiet.

“Yes?”

“You probably won’t heal for a day, at least,” she said matter-of-factly. “The blade has potent magic to disrupt the process.” Alucard had figured as much. His shoulder had barely begun to bind itself together, and his tendon was a mess, but most peculiar was the eerie cold spreading from his wounds.

“Curse you. What are you, a sorceress?” His carrier looked at him and the corner of her mouth curled up mischievously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alucard was getting increasingly frustrated with this abnormally confident outsider who, after wounding him, had demanded that _he_ show _her_ hospitality and had chided _his_ manners. She hadn’t even given him her _name_. His brows furrowed as they continued towards the fortress.

“Whoa,” she said, lifting up her free hand to waft the air around her face as if she’d encountered a bad smell. “I can literally feel your anger. Mind toning it down a bit?”

At that he snapped. Alucard pulled his arm off the strangers’ shoulders and clenched his fists. He could feel his fangs throbbing against his lower lip as he shook with anger. “Enough.”

She hadn’t moved away from him, but her eyes flashed brightly for a moment in warning.

“I don’t know who or what you think you are, but you will do well to stay out of my head. We’ve only just met, and you’ve breached my mind more than once, _against_ my will. I don’t even know your name,” he pointed out.

_Fair_ , she thought to herself, surprised at the revelation. She hadn’t even noticed.

Recklessly, she held out her hand. “My name is Kamaria.” Alucard looked towards her perplexedly. He closed his eyes, sighed and looked up towards the sky in exasperation. Clenching his jaw, the vampire— no, the _dhampir_ looked down at her with mild irritation and brought his hand to meet hers. His skin was cool to the touch, and as he firmly gripped her hand in his, the corner of her lips twisted up ever so slightly.

“Kamaria…” He waited for her to finish but she remained silent.

“Well, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you.” At that, she pressed tightly onto the sides of his hand until Alucard was sure he heard a slight _crack_ under the force of her squeeze. He pulled it away avidly.

“For fuck’s sake, woman!” he exclaimed as Kamaria started laughing. She could barely retain herself and had to lean against a nearby tree as Alucard stubbornly tried to limp from where she stood. She hadn’t laughed so hard in ages, and the incessant mumbling on his part about his patience being tested made her ribs ache. As she quieted down, she felt tears threaten to spill out of her eyes. Quickly, she wiped them away.

Her giggles subsided as she caught up to Alucard and, despite his protests, slung his arm over her shoulder once again and kept walking. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to stop reading your mind.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“I really can’t do anything about your emotions though. That’s a matter of proximity.” She gestured to his arm on her shoulder, lightly brushing his hand in passing. Alucard was glad he hadn’t fed recently enough for a significant amount of blood to rush to his face.

“I can walk,” he objected.

“I seriously doubt it.”

He rolled his eyes and kept limping alongside her. They made sufficiently quick progress since Alucard stubbornly had restarted putting more weight on his right foot. He clenched his teeth, cursing the castle for being so far away. He looked towards the stranger holding him up, noticing a slight furrow in her brow and a drop of sweat hanging off her jaw. His lack of attention made him misstep, and Alucard felt the sharp edge of a rock dig into his foot. He groaned in annoyance, but he did notice Kamaria take a sharp breath. Could she feel his pain? He wondered.

He’d almost expected her to respond, not fully believing that his mind was safe from future probing, but she remained silent. As they kept walking and the throbbing of his foot grew harsher and harsher, he noticed his companion becoming more and more tense.

“Can you feel my pain?”

She remained quiet and shuffled on as they kept making their way to the castle— they were over three quarters of the way now— and Alucard assumed she was intent on ignoring him, when they came across a large fallen tree trunk blocking their path. It ranged about a meter in diameter. Kamaria let go of him, and gracefully leapt over the obstacle. Once on the other side, she turned and extended her hand towards him. Alucard rolled his eyes, disappeared suddenly and teleported next to her. He heard a grudging “show off” as they resumed their previous positions and slightly smirked.

Though he knew they were close enough to the castle now that he could probably teleport the rest of the way, he kept quiet and remained. Besides, it would be rude to suddenly abandon his guest. And imprudent to leave her alone on his estate when she was shrouded in such mystery. He was about to ask her about her business in these woods when she interjected.

“I don’t _feel_ your pain, per say,” she started. “Otherwise I’d be limping as well.” They reached the edge of the forest and were now facing the massive entrance of Dracula’s castle. “It’s more like… a sense of immense discomfort,” she said tentatively. “I can tell your leg’s hurting you more and more as we progress, and how it frustrates you to be slowed down. And how every time your arm shifts it almost feels like your shoulder’s burning. And… other things,” she gestured her hands vaguely.

“What other things?”

No response. She remained quiet as they reached the front steps. Kamaria looked up in awe at the majestic size of the fortress— and shuddered at its sinister vibe. She started to make her way up the steps, but as Alucard tried to propel himself up as gently as possible with his right foot, she felt his leg give way under him. Looking towards the dhampir now, she noticed how pale he was. He’d always been extremely pale, but now his skin had a slight grey tint to it. She looked back in the direction they came, noticing a small trail of blood that his injured tendon had left behind, and scolded herself for not noticing the slow but steady dripping of blood off his right hand.

_Idiot_ , she thought, noticing the precarity of her situations. Here she was at Dracula’s door, carrying his injured son who was bleeding out from wounds he’d received at her hand. How exactly was she supposed to pass that off and get close to him? _My sincerest apologies, oh, King of the Night_ , _but I was hoping to sleep under your roof before I killed you. Oh, and here’s your bleeding son!_

She was interrupted by Alucard’s suppressed laughter. “Your empathic link is a two-way street, isn’t it?”

She froze. “Not usually,” she waited for him to continue. “Why?”

“I can feel your worry from here, and I must note, your concern is touching.” Alucard straightened himself up, looked towards the front door and, in a flash of red, materialized next to it. The display would have been impressive, had he not staggered with fatigue against the heavy metal doors.

Kamaria made her way up the steps, eyeing him suspiciously. “You shouldn’t be able to do that. At least not initially.”

“Meaning?”

She sighed and her eyes wandered towards the moon. “It usually forms between loved ones. My family and I—” she paused, avoiding Alucard’s gaze. He wondered if he could see her eyes water or if it was a trick of the light. “Anyways, it shouldn’t be happening with a stranger who just tried to kill me.”

Alucard rolled his eyes and leaned against the door in an effort to force it open. He would have fallen forward as the door swung inward, had Kamaria not caught him by placing her body in front of his. He landed awkwardly, trying to hold himself up against the other door so as not to make her bear the brunt of his full weight. All he ended up doing, however, was pushing away the other door and colliding ungracefully against her figure.

Kamaria held him up effortlessly, palms pressed against the front of his shirt. Her fingertips brushed the skin peaking from its neckline. She felt damaged skin, the rough edges of a scar, contrasted by the rest of his smooth cold complexion. Gently, she pushed him up so he could stand more firmly on his left foot and wondered what had damaged the vampire prince.

She looked up towards him, noticing for the first time how tall he was. The top of her head barely reached his nose, and his broad shoulders matched his imposing frame. Though he was lean, she had felt the underlying strength of his physique as they had made their way back to castle, despite his wounds. Kamaria wondered at the ease of her victory. _It shouldn’t have been that easy_ , she thought. _I can tell he’s more powerful than that_.

As if to prove her wrong, Kamaria was startled by the feeling of Alucard’s unconscious body crashing against hers.


	5. Chapter 5

Alucard awoke to the unfamiliarity of a bed that wasn’t his, and immediately sat up, tensely scanning the room for any signs of danger. And by signs of danger, he meant his unpredictable assailant. As he tried to lean forward and pull the blanket off of him, he was immediately reminded of his aching shoulder. Though it hurt less than before, it felt even colder and mimicked the sensation of an icy burn. He clutched it in discomfort, only to realize that the wound was bandaged tightly, and when he drew on the covers to reveal his right foot, he found it in the same condition.

He vaguely remembered looking down on the strange traveller before succumbing to exhaustion from his loss of blood. She’d been looking at him puzzledly, as if failing to comprehend his very existence. He had also been taking studying her face. She had upturned, almond-shaped eyes. Her irises had seemed even darker then. They were an intriguing deep sea of brown, with copper flecks that he knew were only visible to him thanks to his vampiric vision. He couldn’t help but notice that the pommels of her cheeks had a slight hint of rouge under her sepia-coloured skin, and that the edges of her full lips were slightly drawn up, giving her small, but naturally endearing smirk when her face was relaxed. It had made her look mischievous, but without malice, as if she were looking forward to revealing a surprise.

Alucard had noticed all of this before unceremoniously passing out like a frightened damsel in distress. He shook his head in embarrassment and wondered again at the location of his… impromptu physician? In whatever case, Kamaria was nowhere to be seen. _Probably gone_ , he thought dejectedly, when he noticed her small pack on the floor, behind the leg of a chair drawn up from the nearby writing desk. His spirits lifted slightly.

_For goodness' sake, get a hold of yourself_ , he scolded.

He swung his legs over the bed and stood up— _painfully_. His tendon was incredibly sore, but still, Alucard managed to make his way through to the window and separate the heavy curtains that blocked the sunlight. They were facing east, and the sudden glare of the newly risen sun bore itself into Alucard’s eyes as he felt a throbbing pulse reverberate in his brain. He groaned and brought his hand up to shield his eyes before turning around. The sunlight didn’t burn him, but in the past few weeks it had begun to sting, sometimes uncomfortably after prolonged exposure. _I need blood_ , he thought as climbed into bed, keeping his back to the window.

“I’m so tired,” he sighed. As his eyelids started growing heavy with fatigue, Alucard was startled by the sound of a large crash from the hallway.

“Come back here!” The sound of Kamaria’s yelling reached him, and before he could wonder at the nature of this commotion, her voice was met by the panicked squeal of a— pig?

Alucard immediately rose up and ran to the heavy wooden door at the front of the room. He flung the door open— and was almost skewered by the tusks of a wild boar. Had Kamaria not grabbed one of its ivory fangs and swung it away from him, he would have been sporting a gaping wound in his thigh. Unfortunately, in an underestimation of her strength the boar collided with the stone wall a few meters down the corridor. Kamaria winced and muttered a quiet, “sorry”, as the animal yelped, glared at her reproachingly and fled. The sound of clattering artefacts falling to the floor could be faintly heard in the distance as it made its way through the castle.

As they both eyed the direction the boar had fled in, Alucard looked towards Kamaria with nothing short of acute exasperation. He waited, with much more patience than he thought she deserved, for an explanation, to which the huntress simply chirped a jubilant, “Good morning!” before trying to dash away. _Oh no you don’t_ , he thought to himself. Despite his injury Alucard’s reflexes were still maddeningly effective. He teleported in her path, and as she collided with his chest, he outstretched his arms in an effort to barricade her from following the pig.

“My catch is getting away,” she huffed as she made an effort so slip through the gap under his left arm. Alucard grabbed her by the shoulder and held it firmly, cornering her against his body and the wall. She glared and flashed her irises reproachfully.

“Kamaria,” he said through grated teeth. “Would you care to explain why there is a boar rampaging my home?” Kamaria immediately rolled her eyes.

“There wouldn’t be a problem if you let me get back to it.”

A thunderous crash made itself audible from somewhere far in the castle. Alucard glowered at the huntress, to which she grimaced apologetically. “Okay, I admit, this was not how I wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise me?” He raised a dubious eyebrow. “Do people often consider frantic wild animals running amuck in their homes as pleasant surprises, or was that inane decision of your own making?” Her expression grew sour.

“ _You_ were getting worse all night! _I_ needed to figure out what was wrong with you,” she snapped, stepping slightly forward into his space.

“Oh, so you’re angry that I suffered from the wounds _you_ inflicted on me,” he retaliated, growing increasingly annoyed. He straightened up as Kamaria, now positively fuming, dug an accusing finger into his sternum.

“Do _not_ patronize me,” she hissed. “Maybe if you fed consistently, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Alucard looked away briefly, now avoiding her gaze. She was absolutely right, of course. How she knew though, he couldn’t be sure, unless— his eyes flashed red with anger at the possibility that she had probed his mind _again_ when the dhampir was suddenly taken aback by the smell of fresh blood that filled his nostrils.

He looked down to where her finger met his chest and noticed a trickle of blood that made its way down her forearm and dripped off the edge of her elbow. Alucard felt his body respond before he could put a stop to it; the familiar elongation of his fangs as they throbbed in anticipation, his nostrils flaring excitedly, and his pupils constricting at the sight of the vivid red substance.

He was enthralled by the sight of it. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the scent of her blood, sweet and olfactorily delectable. It had all the elements of Kamaria’s habitual scent; that unmistakable floral quality he’d spotted the previous night, before he’d gone to search for her, and yet it felt infinitely more _intimate_. There was something peculiarly different about the young lady’s blood. It took all the energy he could muster, but Alucard willed himself to _concentrate_. He didn’t know how long it was till he could place it, but suddenly it was clear to him. Her blood lacked the familiar metallic aura that characterized the existence of every other living thing in existence. It smelled so purely uncontaminated, so _alive_. His mind had no doubt it would be the sweetest, most delectable thing he’d ever tast—

Alucard’s fantasy was interrupted by the sudden feeling of a hand pinching his nose, cutting off not all, but most of the mouth-watering fragrance. He almost moaned in frustration when Kamaria’s voice cut through the fog of his hunger.

“See why we needed a boar?” He opened his eyes to meet hers, and at the sudden realization of the position he was in, teleported to the other side of the corridor, crouched and covered his mouth shamefully. Alucard couldn’t believe himself. Years of practiced diligence and discipline, gone at the sight of a trickle of blood, like a fucking newborn fledgling.

“Don’t feel so down on yourself,” Kamaria bemused, strolling casually towards him. “I’ve been told I smell irresistible.” He could practically _hear_ the smirk in her voice. How she could be amused in a moment like this, he had no idea. He kept his back towards her, still covering his fangs as he felt her stop behind him. Alucard obstinately kept his head angled towards the wall, when he felt her nudge his back with her foot. He glared at her from the corner of his eye.

“I got the boar for you,” she sighed. “You wouldn’t wake up and your wounds weren’t healing as rapidly as they should. The blade inhibits recuperation, but you’re a powerful dhampir. Or at least you _should_ be.” She hadn’t meant to sound disparaging, but he frowned. She must have sensed it because she continued gently. “The only explanation was that you needed blood. Even when you were unconscious, I could feel your… _thirst_. I wasn’t sure if you preferred your prey… _live_ or not, so I was just going to lock it into a room until you woke up but then I forgot to get some rope and I figured I’d be able to hold it, but they’re squirmy little things, aren’t they? Especially when you’re trying not to accidentally kill it by squeezing too tightly…”

Alucard focused on the sound of her voice as he willed his fangs to retreat. They throbbed in protest, hoping to find something to sink themselves into before they finally obeyed his will and pulled back. He slowly stood up, straightened himself and took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m fine.” His voice came out hoarse, and he tried clearing it innocuously. “I don’t need to feed,” he continued. “Your magic spear is probably just more powerful than you think.” He started making his way back to the bedroom, already exhausted by the happenings of the day.

She stepped into his line of sight, preventing him from advancing further. “How long has it been?” she asked, still blocking his path. Alucard wondered if he could push his way past her but decided to avoid the physical confrontation. Instead, he opted to remain silent and wait for her to budge. She rolled her eyes, “I can find out for myself; you know.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” he threatened, and she raised her hands in a gesture of peace.

“I’m kidding, but seriously Alucard. You to eat and get better.”

“Why?” he eyed her suspiciously.

“ _Because_ ,” insisted Kamaria. “If your father finds me in his castle, he’ll already have enough reasons to want to kill me. I’d rather not add his beat-up son to the list.” Alucard froze and looked away. He suddenly disapparated in a red flash and reappeared next to the bedroom door. Without a word, he rushed into his chambers and slammed the door behind him.

Once inside, he leaned his back against the wood and breathed out a tremulous sigh. His throat felt tight and his eyes pricked as he slid down to a seated position on the cold floor and gripped his head in his hands. _Breathe_ , he willed himself, as he stared intently at a crack that zigzagged through the floor. _Breathe_ , he willed himself, as his heart panged despairingly, and the sensation of growing emptiness settled into himself.

Kamaria felt all this from the other side of the wall and sat with her back to the hardwood. She could see Alucard’s shadow under the door behind her, stretching into the hallway as sunlight shined in his room. The sensation of incredible loss rattled her, fresh and raw. And as the realization of what this meant dawned on her, Kamaria felt as if the world was coming to a halt.

“Dracula’s… dead.”

No response. She could hear heavy breaths on the other side of the doorway, and the melancholic drip of tears hitting the floor. A vague smell of saltwater even reached her nostrils, but ultimately, they were nothing compared to what she _felt_ coming from the vampire halfling. The first time their minds had ever touched, Kamaria had noted the omnipresence of grief in him but this was different. Shame and guilt tormented the young man, and it made her want to bury herself just from being close to him.

There was no explanation as to why their empathic link was as strong as it was, but its properties were undeniable. The sorrow emanating from Alucard made its way through her and her heart tightened. It was the familiar pang of grief that typified the loss of a loved one. She knew it all too well.

As her and Alucard sat back to back, separated only by the wooden door, she felt… confused. She’d intended on using Alucard to get close to his father, and now the King of the Night was dead. Her last promise… already fulfilled before she’d had the chance. And as she sat in proximity to the son of her worst enemy, instead of loathing or anger or bloodlust she felt… saddened.

The feeling of their compounded grief— his like a fresh wound and hers, a tender ache that consumed her slowly, but steadily— made it difficult to breathe. She wanted to curl up into a ball and _stop_ , and because of the muddled state of her emotions, she couldn’t quite distinguish if those feelings were hers or Alucard’s.

Kamaria shook her head vehemently, in an effort to clear her mind. This was the problem with empathic links, she remembered. Wolves used them customarily; every pack member shared some form of emotional bond with one another. It was an emblem of unity, of _togetherness_ and it was the reason lone wolves were so rare. Lack of empathic bonds were almost physically painful, and it wasn’t rare, in werewolf lore, to hear stories of exiled members who had dejectedly starved to death out of melancholic lethargy. She’d even almost done the same, and the only thing that kept her from succumbing to that was the promise she’d made, constantly thumping away at the back of her mind. _Kill Dracula_ , _kill Dracula, kill Dracula_.

Emotional bonds allowed for a beautiful intimacy that transcended verbal communication. They allowed packs to _feel_ together. Instances of joy escalated to elation, moments of content settled a feeling of tranquil happiness amongst all the people who were linked together, and as the Alpha she had been at the heart of that. However, the flip side of the coin was equally potent. Packs grieved and mourned together as well. Sadness had the same ability to mirror itself, but without prudence, the experience of your grief simply reflecting itself in everyone around you could make it escalate without end.

Though guiltily, she quieted their bond as much as she could. It wouldn’t help either of them to get lost in their sorrow now. She could still sense the pang of his heartache faintly, in the back of her mind, but she was no longer immersed in it. Kamaria frustratingly chided herself in her mind, annoyed at how easily she’d lost her bearings. _What do I do now_ , she thought. She had carried herself from country to country in search of this damned castle, certain that finding it would mean an end to this. It was all she had wanted, she realized.

_And now Dracula is dead. And I am… alone._ She was angry, she realized. _All this way_ , she thought. _And the fucker’s already bit the dust_.

Her thoughts drifted to Alucard, who was still quiet on the other side of the door. _What happens now?_ She’d figured that when it came time to her fight with Dracula, she’d end up battling it out with him too, but if the Night King was already dead… _Do I kill him too?_ Something about the thought unsettled her. He was weak and wounded. There was no need for her to keep up pretenses for good faith. She should end it, for good. The entire Ţepeş lineage, here and now. A good werewolf wouldn’t hesitate at the chance to eradicate Dracula’s bloodline. It’s what Brandan would have done.

A small voice brushed the back of her mind. _He’s a monster_ , it whispered.

_So are you_ , she thought to herself.

“I killed him,” Alucard’s voice came out in a doleful, barely audible whisper. Had it not been for her hearing, she probably would have missed it. She felt a sudden twinge in her chest, because though she had understood the familiarity of his loss, she couldn’t have imagined the similarity of their experiences.

In her mind, memories of that fateful winter night from over centuries ago replayed in her mind and threatened to consume her. She ran her fingers along her right side, where she could feel the scars the wolf’s claws had left behind pulsate faintly, as if they themselves could remember the night they’d been carved into her skin by the Beast of her recurring nightmare.

She remembered the horror, as she had watched its dying body retreat back to its human form. The dagger he, himself, had given her years prior, was now lodged in the man’s bare chest, which a moment before had been coarse with fur. She hadn’t known, when the Beast lunged at her. How could she have known? As it descended, she’d suddenly remembered the dagger in her boot, and as it had dug its claws in the flesh of her side, an inhuman strength had overcome her. With desperation she’d reached for the weapon and jammed it upwards, aiming for the heart.

He’d never told her what he was, why had he never told her, why would he attack her, why would he do that? _Why?_ It was the only thought Kamaria had been able to formulate at the time, as she watched the face of the Beast shrink back into her father’s face.

She didn’t know what had transpired between Alucard and his father, but she could understand. She took a shuddered breath, before responding softly.

“I killed mine too.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of lightheartedness is good for the soul...

When Alucard heard Kamaria grow silent after his revelation, it had saddened him further. _She must think I’m a monster_ , he thought, which is why he in no way could have anticipated her response.

“I killed mine too.” She’d spoken gently, barely whispering, but he heard the strain in her voice. Alucard remained silent, both in shock and what he considered to be perverse curiosity. He wanted to know what had happened, he realized, and chided himself. She didn’t owe him her life story. And yet, unable to come up with an appropriate response, he waited for her to continue.

“I was—” Kamaria’s voice cracked despite her. She cleared it and tried to start again. On the other side of the door, Alucard looked shamefully towards his hands. He was about to tell her that she needn’t continue when he once again felt his mind being accessed by someone other than him. However, it was different this time, less intrusive. He realized that rather than probe his consciousness, it felt more like she was guiding him on how to access _hers_.

The only way he could explain it was as if a corridor had formed itself between them, with the doors to their minds on each opposite end. Usually, her mind simply walked across and entered his. But this time it seemed as if rather than inserting herself, she simply opened his door and guided him to the other side of the hallway, to where hers stood. She was allowing him access, he realized. Alucard concentrated and leaned into it, and swiftly heard her voice. This time, it felt less like it bore itself into his mind and more like _he_ was listening in on _her_. He could feel the pulse of their connection in the back of his head, like a string taut between their two minds, but now he felt in control. Out of respect for his privacy she wanted to give him the option, he grasped. He could cut it at any time, should he wish to.

He didn’t have unfiltered access, however. Kamaria’s mind was like a forest covered in heavy fog. His vision was incredibly limited, and the fog was impenetrable. There were things she wouldn’t let him see, and if he tried to concentrate on a point in the distance, he could feel the mist thicken.

_The point is, Alucard_ , she tried to put as much sincerity as she could into the next words she spoke.

_I had my reasons, and I’m sure you had yours too_.

She heard the dhampir straighten up and take a deep breath. As she felt him break off their connection, she sighed. _I wish I could help you_. She leaned against the door and let herself breathe for a moment. She was about to get up when Alucard’s door swung inwards and she was suddenly on her back, looking up at the vampire’s inverted face. Kamaria groaned in embarrassment, to which the dhampir smirked. It was worth the humiliation, she decided.

“I believe we have a boar to catch,” he said, stepping over her into the hallway. Nonchalantly, he turned around and offered to help her up. Kamaria sat up and grabbed his forearm as he pulled her to her feet. Once up, she stretched lazily, and noticed there was still blood along her arm. She looked down at her formerly white sleeve, now sporting large splotches of red, and huffed annoyedly— before ripping it off completely and using it to wipe her arm.

Alucard looked baffled as she bunched up the bloody cloth and looked around the hallway for somewhere appropriate to put it. He sighed exasperatedly and held out his hand in expectation. Kamaria eyed him warily as she deposited the remnants of her sleeve into his hand, and after guessing what she was thinking, Alucard huffed.

“I am _not_ that _desperate_ for blood.”

The huntress feigned ignorance. “I never said anything,” she shrugged.

“No, but you thought it.”

“And who’s the mind reader now?” she raised an eyebrow jokingly.

Alucard rolled his eyes and brushed passed her on his way into the room. He was barely limping now. Though his shoulder felt fully healed, apart from the unnatural cold, his tendon still ached. The tear seemed to have sealed itself, but it still throbbed when his weight pressed into his right foot. The pain was relatively mild compared to what he’d felt before though, and he easily ignored it. He dumped the bloody rags into the hearth and, with the snap of his fingers they burst aflame. It was a trick his father had taught him, long ago. Remembering that he wasn’t in his chamber, he walked back out to the woman, who was now casually leaning against the wall.

“Wait here,” he said.

“Where—” she had intended to ask him where he was going when the dhampir suddenly disappeared in front of her. She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Show off,” she muttered. Kamaria tried to close her eyes and concentrate, attempting to focus her hearing enough so that she could locate him, but before she could manage, he reappeared right beside her, to which she jumped slightly.

“Fuck’s sake,” she muttered as a pile of cloth collided with her face. She caught it and held it in front of her to look at it. It was a tunic, she saw. One of his by the smell of it. The werewolf noted hints of cinnamon, foreign spices and citrus that had embedded themselves into the cloth through exposure of his natural scent. Kamaria narrowed her eyes at the cloth, as if expecting it to combust as soon as she put it on.

“Is something the matter?”

“It’s… nothing.” When she got around to telling her what she was, she’d have to educate him on the implications of scent sharing. She went to remove the shirt she had on and was halfway through pulling it up above her head, when she felt the dhampir hold her arm firmly.

“For goodness' sake,” he groaned, guiding her towards the bedroom. He pushed her inside and rapidly closed the door behind her.

“Oh right,” she mumbled, her cheeks growing hot. “Sorry!” she yelled out, to which she could hear him blow out air through his nostrils, and mutter something along the lines of how utterly ridiculous she was. She ignored him and slid into the shirt he’d offered her. Alucard’s smell filled her nostrils even more intensely, to which she frowned.

_Jesus Christ, did he give me his favourite one?_ As she tucked it into her pants, she was thankful it at least had a relatively modest neckline. From what she’d seen the dhampir wear so far, she doubted his usual garments would be enough to cover most of her chest. She sighed as the shirt bunched up unflatteringly at her waistline and decided that this wouldn’t do at all.

“Alucard?” she called out.

“Surely you can manage to change on your own,” he teased.

“Eat shit,” she sighed as she pulled off the shirt, he’d given her.

“Such unbecoming language from a lady.” Kamaria could hear his voice dripping with mirth and imagined him smirking haughtily outside, leaning with his back against the wall opposite her door.

“Yes, well, fuck you,” she smiled as he huffed indignantly. “Anyways, I meant to ask you something. Are you particularly attached to this shirt in any way?” Kamaria knelt to pull a dagger out of her boot.

“Of course,” he quipped sarcastically. “And I made sure to give it to the woman who tried to kill me.”

“I think you mean: ‘defended herself as was well within her right,’ thank you very much.” Kamaria took her dagger and sliced into the shirt, cutting off a few centimeters of length from its bottom. Putting it on, she felt much more comfortable, and tucked it into her pants with ease. She cut off a long strip of cloth from the remaining piece of fabric and used it to tie her hair up. Satisfied, she walked back out to the hallway.

“Final—” the vampire started, when she immediately hushed him with a finger to his lips. Alucard looked down at her hand on his face and blinked rapidly in astonishment. He grabbed her hand and pulled it off his mouth, only for her to place it against his chest and hold him, with _inhuman_ strength, against the wall.

“Hold on,” she whispered. He grit his teeth in mild irritation as she continued to angle her ear towards something that remained undetectable to him. He noticed that when focused, she furrowed her eyebrow a little, and her lips parted ever so slightly. His cheeks grew warm and he gulped as he one again focused on her ears. When they twitched slightly, he noticed a smile creep onto her face.

“Hey Alucard,” she said bemusedly.

“What?”

The huntress paused for a moment and looked up into his eyes. If she was aware of their proximity, she impressively made no show of it.

“Whoever doesn’t catch the boar is a rotten egg,” and with that she dashed furtively down the corridor. As Alucard watched her disappear around the corner, he frowned and shook his head. Despite the strangeness of their encounter and the mystery surrounding his unexpected guest, he was… glad. He had no doubt it was worrying that he enjoyed her company; everything about her made his hair stand on edge and his body want to run away.

He wondered why he seemed to habitually make friends with people who’d tried to kill him. _First the Belmont and now this_ , he thought mockingly. His mind even drifted to Sypha, who despite her initial unmenacing disposition, _had_ threatened to incinerate him. _Seriously Alucard, your death wish is showing_.

The dhampir couldn’t help but chuckle at the predicament he was in. As he heard a faint, “ _AHAH!_ ” in the distance, followed by a crash and an exasperated “ _Shit!_ ” he decided there was nothing to do, in the meantime, but wait and see how the situation progressed. Genuinely amused for what seemed like the first time in ages, he straightened, took a deep breath and made his way down the hall Kamaria had sprinted through.

Alucard was only sure of one thing—

He was going to catch that boar.


	7. Chapter 7

_The damned thing has to be fucking magical_ , Alucard thought to himself as the pig managed to escape his companion’s grasp, yet again. Kamaria let out a curse as the animal’s tusks scratched her thigh, but somehow she didn’t seem too bothered. He couldn’t count how many scrapes and bruises she’d acquired from their day spent chasing the frantic swine, as most of them had all but disappeared due to her rapid healing. Yet another ability his mysterious guest possessed. He added it to the mental tally he kept in an effort to work out what she was but was suddenly distracted when the boar squealed frantically and she turned to wink at him, before taking after it.

When he’d caught up to her a few corridors down, the pig was nowhere to be seen and Kamaria was leaning against the wall, her fingers tapping on her leather sheath absentmindedly.

“Finally, I was starting to think you’d gotten lost.” She started to walk alongside him, occasionally pausing to listen for hints of the animal.

“I thought this was a competition. Isn’t waiting for me to catch up a bit… counterintuitive?” At that she shrugged.

“Just making sure you have a chance at winning. Besides, I’d rather not venture of alone. This place gives me the creeps.”

Alucard couldn’t help but look at her bemusedly.

“What?”

He shook his head. “You are a mystery.”

The corridor they were in came to an end and split into two opposite hallways.

“Left, or right?” he asked her.

“You tell me,” she quipped. “It’s starting to feel like I’m doing all the work.”

The dhampir sighed before inhaling purposefully. Fortunately, the swine’s fragrance stood out from the typical smell of damp stone and dust, making it easy to trace. He waited a little longer to make sure he’d chosen the right direction, before announcing confidently:

“Right.”

“Finally. I thought I’d die of hunger before you made up your mind. Let’s catch this thing quickly, I’m starving.” Alucard turned to make his way down the corridor, with Kamaria trailing close behind.

“I thought the boar was for me,” he responded.

“The _blood_ is for you; I’m not just going to let the meat go to waste.”

“I do eat, you know.”

She paused and looked at him incredulously.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Human food?” she queried.

“Well, I am half-human.”

“Right…” her voice trailed off. There was a brief silence before she took up again. “Do you age?”

“Not anymore,” he twisted down another corridor and stopped briefly, checking to see if he was still on the right path. As the faint smell of the boar reached his nostrils, he continued. “I aged quickly and then I stopped.”

He expected more questions, but none came from the huntress. When he eyed her briefly, she seemed to be lost in thought. He decided to try some questions of his own.

“And what about you?”

“Hmm?” She blinked, suddenly drawn back to attention.

“Does the mystery woman age?” Kamaria rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“She does not, as a matter of fact.” Alucard turned to raise an eyebrow in surprise when he noticed her eyes looking away from him, slightly downcast and forlorn. Before he had a chance to change the subject, she noticed his gaze and smiled at him briefly, though her eyes didn’t mirror her expression.

“Guess how old I am,” she skipped ahead and turned to face him, walking backwards.

“I couldn’t possibly,” he sighed. “You could be twenty or two hundred, for all I know.” At that her grin widened mischievously before turning around to walk beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

“You’re closer than you think.”

He tried not to let his curiosity show. “Older than two hundred then,” he speculated calmly. She didn’t answer, opting to wink at him instead.

“Three hundred?” he probed.

“Something along those lines… I have to admit, you lose track after a while.” She laughed and ducked into a nearby staircase.

As Alucard descended, he watched the beams of sunlight shine through apertures in the stone and illuminate her brown skin. He could see an undertone of red periodically flush her cheeks, and when he concentrated, he could hear the blood rushing through her, muffled and steady, like an uninterrupted stream deep in the forest. The more attention he paid to her, the more she perplexed him.

Alucard had met immortals before. Despite his mother’s objection, he’d been introduced to some of his father’s… _friends_ , early on in life. Most of them were centuries old, and his own father had been alive for over four hundred years. Immortality no longer held any novelty to him. He’d grown up around people who’d forgotten what it was like to be human ages ago, and he knew that unless his life was cut short, he’d probably be doomed to the same fate.

What mystified him was Kamaria herself. He was so used to the frigid manner of most aged vampires that to be confronted with her intensity and her vim felt… odd. Of course, not all vampires grew gelid and indifferent with age. He remembered Godbrand’s boastful manner, his voice always so pompously loud, and constantly growing louder with every sip of ale and wine. And Dracula, though he’d carried himself stoically in the presence of his generals, with his wife and son, he’d been… different.

A lump lodged itself at the back of his throat at the thought of his father. He shook his head slightly and tried to focus once again on the puzzling woman before him. Immortality to him had always seemed cold, and yet he could feel the warmth radiating off Kamaria from where he stood. Everything he could see, smell and hear of her exuded vitality, and deep down he knew it should terrify him, but he was entranced.

Like a moth to a flame, the dhampir felt himself uncontrollably drawn to her, despite the distressing unease his instincts tried to communicate to him. Curiosity and trepidation fought for prominence in his mind, but neither could gain the upper hand, and either way, both sides were the driving force behind a single thought that had been repeating itself over and over, since the night before, when they’d met.

_Who is this woman, and what on earth does she want with me?_

***

They’d been at it for hours. How on earth the animal had managed to evade them for the better part of the day was beyond him, though he suspected it might have something to do with the increasingly ridiculous rules the huntress kept adding to their game, as well as the sauntering pace they were both playing at. It had been decided that teleporting was forbidden as it was, in her words, “fucking unfair”. He’d countered by pointing out that her mind reading gave her an equally unfair edge over him. Alucard could teleport all over the castle all day long to no avail, but he noticed that even in moments where their senses trumped them (which were few and far between), Kamaria somehow always managed to ‘stumble’ upon the boar.

“I guess I’m just lucky,” she’d answered when he asked how she kept locating the boar, making her way through the castle with the familiar ease of someone who’d inhabited its walls for years.

“Or cheating,” he surmised. The huntress pretended to huff indignantly and smirked out of the corner of her eye. The vampire decided to change tactics.

“I supposed you’re right…,” he walked swiftly past her. “It’s impossible you could _actually_ be finding the pig with skill alone.” He paused and looked back at her, smirking slyly. She raised her eyebrow.

“Are you trying to bait me, Alucard?”

“Perhaps,” he admitted. “Is it working?” Her dark brown eyes flashed golden in response. He decided to take that as a yes.

Kamaria chuckled before walking up to him. “Let’s change the stakes,” she said with a hint of mischief. Now Alucard raised an eyebrow curiously.

“I,” she pointed to herself before turning her finger onto him, pressing lightly against his chest, “catch you.” She looked up at him defiantly, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes shimmered with excitement. His gaze lingered in them a second too long looking into them before replying.

“You can’t even catch a boar.”

“Neither can you,” she snorted. “Seriously, I bet I can find you anywhere in this castle.”

“Anywhere?”

“Name a wager,” she challenged.

The dhampir paused for a moment, wondering what he could ask of the huntress. “If I win,” he spoke slowly, “you have to tell me who you are.”

“I’ve already told you.”

“You’ve told me your name. I still don’t know where you came from, why you’re here or what you are.”

She tried feigning ignorance. “You’ll have to be more specific,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m many things.”

“You know what I mean.”

Kamaria shrugged nonchalantly before he continued.

“You’re not human.” It came out as a statement, rather than a question.

“No.”

“Then what?” He forced her eyes to meet his.

“I—” Kamaria looked towards the ground, avoiding his gaze. “If I tell you it will… _complicate_ things.” She’d been hoping he would somehow manage to figure it out on his own, but he still remained unaware of what she truly was. She’d come to the conclusion that the dhampir was simply too young to remember.

Until the last year, when Dracula had begun his campaign of human eradication, she hadn’t encountered a vampire in… years. Wolves and vampires had basically kept to separate sides of Europe ever since the Red Migration. She couldn’t recall the exact details but sometime after the beginning of the new millennium, a war had been waged in the shadows, with werewolves of the west spearheading a movement to exterminate vampires from Europe. They’d made it as far as the edges of the Holy Empire at the time, and by the end the Night had shifted eastward, opting to migrate further inland till Dracula formerly settled in Wallachia.

There were almost no active vampire oligarchs to the west of Wallachia, apart from the Vikings who mostly kept to the north. But there were fewer and fewer werewolves as well. The war had brought them near extinction, leaving behind the slaughter of entire packs that had been maintained for generations.

She’d met an old lycanthrope whose pack had been dead for centuries. He’d hailed from Scotland, and had spent his life travelling the continent before settling in Egypt, where she’d met him. “We used to run across the mountains, for days on end,” he would tell her. “And no matter where in the country, we could hear our brothers in the distance. There wasn’t a place in Europe where you could howl and not expect to hear someone howl back in return.”

And as the ale would settle in his gut, he’d grow quiet and whisper to her: “You could always tell the difference between the howl of a wolf and the one of a shapeshifter,” he’d explained to her. “You could _feel_ it— in your blood, and as you ran across the country, and in the mountains, you could hear that you weren’t alone” He’d grow quiet then, and gaze sorrowfully into the distance.

It could make sense that Alucard couldn’t recognize her kind, though she was surprised Dracula hadn’t instructed him in the histories of their people. _He must be young then,_ she pondered. _Definitely less than a century._ Though she would be surprised if there wasn’t a single piece of Lycan lore amongst the impressive tomes stacked in the library, which they’d passed in their search for the boar, or the impressive archive of knowledge beneath them in the Belmont hold. She supposed the dhampir had simply never gotten around to it.

Realizing that he was now looking at her with worry, she shrugged it off her and resumed her playful disposition. “It doesn’t matter anyways,” she said haughtily, “because you won’t beat me.”

The vampire paused for a moment, but he decided not to dwell on it. His lip curled up as he raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Since we’re already entertaining the impossible,” he smirked as she punched his arm lightly, “name your wager.” Kamaria wondered how much she could roll her eyes before incurring permanent damage.

She pondered for a moment at what to ask him as they walked together through the castle. “What should I make you do when I win? It has to be something good,” she mused, her tone growing malicious. “Something embarrassing.”

He side-eyed her reproachfully, to which she smirked. As Alucard rolled his eyes, she teasingly nudged his side. Suddenly, her eyes widened with excitement and her grin widened. “I just thought of something brilliant.”

Alucard was beginning to regret his involvement in this new game of theirs, and contemplated simply going back to chasing the boar, who, by the sound of it, was somewhere near the kitchen. He looked over warily. “What?”

“If I win,” she could barely formulate the sentence without bursting into laughter, “I cut your hair.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” he glared.

It was too much for the huntress. Kamaria’s body shook with laughter, and when it finally subsided, she brought up a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“God, the look on your face.” Even when Alucard had bled out in the forest, she was sure he hadn’t been this pale.

“I’m glad you had fun with your little joke,” the vampire sulked, to which she chuckled even more.

“Oh, I’m dreadfully serious,” she said, stopping in front of him. As she stepped closer to him, she angled her chin upwards in an effort to seem taller. “You can ask me whatever you like, _if_ you win. But when I find you,” she leaned in even further, “I’m giving you a nice little trim,” she winked. Alucard’s eyes paused on her lips for a moment as she spoke before combatively holding her gaze.

He knew what she was doing, and he refused to back down. He leaned in as well, close enough that he could feel the warm air of her breath on his skin, and smirked. “Such arrogance,” his voice seemed lower than usual. “Won’t it be embarrassing when you lose?” Kamaria narrowed her eyes in annoyance, but he noticed her gaze drift briefly towards his mouth. _Two can play at this game_ , he thought. Armed with brazen audacity, he leaned in even further.

Alucard knew he’d won when he could hear what he was looking for; the sound of her heartbeat quickening. With a triumphant smirk, he tilted his head slightly as their faces drew nearer. Kamaria’s eyes were now solely on his lips, which were inching closer to hers by the second. She didn’t let herself lean in, refusing to admit defeat. But she didn’t pull away either. As her eyes gazed up to meet his in the moment right before their lips would have touched, he smiled slyly, winked, and whispered, “Catch me if you can,” before disappearing into thin air.


	8. Chapter 8

Kamaria stood there, mouth agape, and let out a breath she’d forgotten she was holding.

_Son of a bitch_ , she thought.

As heat rose up to her cheeks, she exhaled audibly and scoffed. “Arsehole!” She hoped that wherever he was, he could hear her, though she doubted it. A quick scan of her surroundings showed her that the vampire was neither within hearing nor smelling range. A scent trail would be impossible to follow since he’d teleported, but seeing as he’d cheated, all bets were off. Kamaria closed her eyes and steadied her breath, opening her mind up to her surroundings.

Though she’d never admit it, this was how she kept finding the elusive boar during their chase earlier. She could sense its mind as it scurried through the fortress, and follow it, almost like a scent trail. Now she let her mind expand over the castle. The sheer size of the thing made things difficult for her, and as she tuned in to locate his mind, she was once again amazed at the underlying bustle of life inhabiting the eerie fortress.

Cats lazed around sun-soaked apertures, and though surprisingly few rodents roamed in tiny crevasses, she could feel them. All of them, their minds working away in the typical patterns of animal behaviour. A few bats slept peacefully in what she assumed was a dungeon of some sort— she could feel them deep underground— and there were even a few robins’ nests scattered throughout the abandoned castle. Even the boar seemed to have found refuge in a kitchen cupboard.

_“The boar’s gotten into your potatoes,”_ she tried to send out. No answer.

She didn’t extend her mind’s eye far beyond the castle’s reach, assuming that Alucard would at least have the decency to remain inside, though she began to have doubts after her initial sweep of the castle.

_No sign of him_ , she frowned. _He wouldn’t leave the castle, would he?_

No, she decided. She should have suspected he’d try to make this a challenge. Kamaria closed her eyes and swept through the fortress again. _Nothing_ , she thought with irritation. _Where the fuck—_ Kamaria shook her head, willing herself to keep cool. She expanded her mind for a third time, and even looked for signs of life in the underground Belmont hold, but all she sensed were the minds of rats scurrying around. Tension had begun to build up behind her eyes, causing her to groan in frustration. She tried to expand her reach as far out to the forest as possible, but her mind strained against her; she ceased her efforts when she felt the pressure in her brain building up, threatening to implode.

_How long has it been?_ she wondered. _At least half an hour, right?_ Though he hadn’t set her a time limit she had no doubt that soon, Alucard would pop up next to her, arrogant as all hell to claim his reward, and she would die before she lost to a cheat— _and a fucking tease_ , she thought.

Okay, perhaps flirting in an effort to destabilize the dhampir had been immoral. Though incredibly handsome, she’d assumed that Alucard’s experience with women was… limited. The nearest village was about a three-day walk, and she doubted the vampire habitually got out of the castle to go chat up the barmaids there.

Still, he’d retaliated in a way that definitely surpassed her behaviour, and Kamaria was a little soured by the taste of her own medicine. _And I leaned into it like an idiot_ , she chided herself. _Seriously, if I lose now, I’ll never live down the shame_.

_You should be ashamed,_ a sinister voice whispered in the corner of her mind.

What would her pack have thought of her, cavorting with Dracula’s son? _What the fuck are you doing_ , she could almost hear them say. _Playing hide-and-seek with the son of the vilest creature on the planet. What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you pathetic, disgrace of a werewolf?_

She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to banish the thought from her mind. Once again, she felt the familiar tug of her mind expanding as she searched high and low for the dhampir, all over the castle. Her frown increased gradually as there was still no sign of the vampire.

“Where else can he be?” she exasperated. “I’ve combed this place over from head to toe, from the tallest fucking steeple to the lowest—” she paused herself. The lowest what? She’d stopped at the sublevel containing all the bats and hadn’t gone further, assuming that there was nothing underneath them but earth and bedrock. But what if there wasn’t?

With a sliver of excitement that she tried to quell, Kamaria closed her eyes once again, but this time, instead of letting her mind drift outwards she focused it and pushed _down_. Lower and lower she stretched her psyche through what seemed like never-ending layers of earth under them. She brushed past the almost imperceptible minds (if you could call them that) of some worms— who veritably possessed about as much consciousness as the rocks around them— and kept going. Her head was pounding faintly, and she was starting to feel nauseous, but out of stubbornness she refused to let go. _This has to be it_ , she reassured herself. _A castle this creepy has to have a hidden dungeon somewhere._

She was going downstairs now, her hand outstretched on the wall beside her, both in an effort to focus her attention, but also to stop her from collapsing. As she pushed even further, it felt as if she were tearing the edges of her mind. The pounding behind her eyes had doubled and she wondered if it was possible that they would burst out her head. Bile was rising up the back of her throat as her nausea intensified, and she was considering giving up. The vampire would have to find out what she was at some point anyways.

She was sweating profusely, and she wanted to retch. _One last push_ , she thought. _One last push and then fuck it_. She exhaled slowly, trying to steady her breath.

“Please,” she whispered to a god she didn’t believe in, “throw me a fucking bone.” And with that, she gave her all into one last push at the search of her dhampir and found—

Nothing. _Goddamn it_ , she thought.

She was about to retreat when she felt a sliver of something and froze. Again, she sensed something in the vicinity, and the back of her nape tingled. _I can do one more_ , she convinced herself, though she felt otherwise. The pain becoming unbearable, she couldn’t tell if the feeling of her brain seeping out of her ears was real or her imagination, but she hoped for the former and decided not to find out. _Last one_ , she promised herself. _Really this time_. She tried taking a deep breath, but her breathing was laboured, and she shivered weakly.

As Kamaria poured every last bit of her strength push her mind to extend beyond what she even thought was possible she sank to all fours and almost lost consciousness when she felt the cold surprise of Alucard’s mind colliding with hers.

_“Hah!”_ she projected weakly. “ _Got you!”_

She swallowed down her bile and forced herself to get up. She had no idea where she was going, but as she descended one of the impressive staircases of the entrance hall, she was certain of one direction; down.

_“I was starting to think you’d given up_.”

Alucard’s voiced seemed faint, and on the verge of slipping away. Painfully, Kamaria concentrated in order to strengthen their connection. She almost slipped down the stairs and grabbed the railing shakily.

_“I hope you’re ready for your haircut_ ,” was all she could transmit. She could almost feel the vampire roll his eyes, which made her smile faintly.

_“You haven’t found me yet_.”

_“Oh please,”_ she hoped her annoyance was coming across. “ _The hardest part is done. In fact, why don’t you just come up here so we can celebrate my win?”_

_“Not a chance_ ,” he replied. “ _If anything, you’re just getting started.”_

Kamaria didn’t have the energy to respond, focusing instead on making her way through the castle. She found the dungeon level and walked past an innumerable number of cells bathed in the blood-red light of electric lamps. She was about to pass one of them when something in the corner of her eye made her stop. Deep claw marks fissured the stone walls, and as she grazed the bars that barricaded the prison holds, she winced. _Silver_ , she realized.

_Impure_ , she concluded, watching the faint redness of a burn appear where her hand had come into contact with the metal. It was undoubtedly mixed with something else, but its faint concentration was enough.

A thought crept into her brain before she could banish it away. _His father probably slaughtered werewolves in these cells. Maybe Alucard knows exactly what you are and he’s just pretending. Luring you deeper and deeper into his castle, until you’re at his mercy._

_I would have seen it_ , she argued with herself.

_Maybe you didn’t want to,_ it replied. _The blood of your people probably soak these walls, and you’re running around playing fucking hide-and-seek._

Kamaria closed her eyes and shook her head. _They were never_ my _people._

She kept making her way through and at the back noticed there was a spiraling staircase descending into complete darkness. She sighed unenthusiastically.

_“This creepy staircase better not lead to some creepy sex dungeon, by the way”_ she threatened half-jokingly. _“I’ve castrated nine people in my lifetime.”_

_“Someone’s been reading too much demon erotica_.”

Kamaria rolled as she entered the staircase and decided that though she’d originally decided to only cut off a few centimeters, she was now contemplating a much more radical haircut for the dhampir.

_“I cannot wait_ ,” she thought curtly, “ _to shave your head.”_

The dhampir remained silent, though she could still feel him thinking away, somewhere in the depths underneath her. As she entered the stairwell, her eyes adjusted almost immediately. Though she was grateful to get away from the harsh red of the dungeon lights, her nausea did not subside, and she had to clutch the wall to keep from tripping and breaking her neck on the stone staircase. Broken bones didn’t tend to phase her anymore, but necks were a fickle thing when healing; Kamaria couldn’t tilt hear head completely to the left anymore without hearing a faint clicking sound, after an unfortunate accident with an incredibly persistent (and _flexible_ ) succubus in 1362.

The stairwell seemed to stretch on forever, and she was starting to wonder if Dracula had somehow managed to reach the Earth’s core while building the castle. As she descended deeper and deeper, the temperature rose gradually, building into a stifling, humid heat. Sweat laced her forehead and the back of her neck as she continued down the spiral staircase, her throat growing dryer by the minute. As she reached the final landing she sighed in relief, only to realize she still hadn’t caught up to the vampire.

He was _still_ underneath her somehow, though she wondered how that was even possible. She looked perplexedly around at the small square room she’d entered. She was faced with nothing but bare stone walls devoid of furniture or decoration. There was no way down, no continued stairwell, nothing. As she leaned against the wall for a moment’s rest, Kamaria grew even more frustrated.

_“Alucard, where the fuck am I?”_ She sent out an image of the room she was in, and the additional strain almost knocked her over.

_“Warm_ , _”_ he replied laconically.

_“Ha-ha, very funny.”_ The words came out dryly, more so than she’d intended. She felt bizarrely drained, as if she’d been awake for much too long.

_“You know, you could always forfeit_.” Kamaria smiled tightly.

_“You know, you could eat shit_ ,” she retorted, her tone sarcastically cheerful. In response, she felt the dhampir’s mind elicit— nostalgia? Whatever it was, she didn’t have time to dwell. _“Just tell me how to get down to where you are_.”

_“I thought the challenge was for you to find me anywhere_.” She could _feel_ the vague amusement drifting from his mind, and it made her want to smack him. “ _Not for me to direct you to me.”_

_“You’ve already lost,”_ she tried pleading. _“Why not just come up and admit it? Besides, we still haven’t found the boar yet.”_

_“I thought you said it was in my potatoes,”_ she felt him chuckle.

_“I thought you hadn’t heard me.”_

_“Well, you think loudly, you know.”_ At that, she smiled.

Kamaria scoured the room for anything that could point her towards the dhampir. He’d been in here, she could smell it, but there were no clues as to where he could have gone. She felt like she was on the right path, but her senses were stumped.

She needed to find Alucard before she lost consciousness, and the room was growing increasingly warm around her. There was one way to find out exactly how he’d gotten so far underground… She grappled with the idea for a few seconds before her resolve settled.

_In and out,_ she told herself. _No peaking._ She closed her eyes and concentrated on him, and her stomach churned in protest as she grit her teeth and _plunged_.

Alucard’s mind felt cool as she sank into it, searching through his recent memories for the information she needed. She could see him walking through a maze of underground tunnels that stretched out somewhere deep beneath her, and she sifted through, trying to find the way down. She paused she saw, through Alucard’s eyes, the room she was in. Kamaria let the memory play out, carefully observing the steps the vampire took before her viewing was abruptly cut off.

_“Do not ever do that again_ ,” he snarled. Kamaria felt a twinge of guilt that was ultimately drowned out by satisfaction. She’d seen the trick, and with newfound energy she strode to the other side of the room, finally aware of what to do.

She pressed her hand against the wall and felt around for a second before she found it. The unmistakeable indentation of a fang in the stone, which had been painted over to look like it was a part of the wall. _Aha!_ She almost cried in relief.

“ _See you soon_ ,” she transmitted as she pushed forcefully against the stone.

_“Kamaria, wai_ — _"_

She barely had time to savour her triumph before she was suddenly free-falling in interminable darkness, but not before she hit her head on the ledge of the opening that formed under her.


	9. Chapter 9

_Well_ , she thought to herself as she drifted in and out of consciousness. _This is lovely_. She was surprised at how calm she felt. She couldn’t think clearly, probably because of the violent collision between her forehead and the stone floor a few seconds ago, and the general strain she’d put on her mind. She didn’t know how long she’d been falling for or how long she had left, and as she continued to fall, she felt her eyes start to water.

_This was definitely a trap_ ; she couldn’t help but let a small chuckle escape her lips before correcting herself. _And I walked right into it. Dumb cunt_. Luring her into an underground dungeon with a conveniently placed trapdoor, just waiting for her to set it in motion. She hadn’t even tried to be careful, she realized. _I might as well have gestured towards my neck and said, ‘Have me,’ while I was at it._ Once she collided with whatever floor was below her, she’d either be dead or too weak to move. The perfect prey.

A part of her wanted to slap herself. She’d felt how long Alucard had gone on without blood; this was inevitable. _Yet you put yourself in this position, like an idiot,_ she chided herself. _Should have killed him when you had the chance_.

Kamaria had been falling for ages. Not knowing what else to do, she tried connecting with Alucard’s mind again. She found it in less than a second, which worried her at how close she was to the bottom of the pit.

The vampire was running, she realized. He turned and twisted around corners of the endless maze under the castle at impossible speeds, and Kamaria noticed a sense of panic gradually mounting in him. He was running to her, she realized.

_What are you doing?_ she transmitted to him. _Isn’t this what you wanted?_

At this point couldn’t make out the opening from which she’d come through. From a height like that, she was sure to end up as wolf splatter against the floor soon. She turned her mind back to Alucard.

The dhampir was still speeding through the tunnels. His constant teleportation made it had for her to keep tabs on him, though she tried her best. Her eyes fluttered in exhaustion, and she almost lost consciousness again when she heard Alucard loudly through their connection.

_I’m going to catch you_.

_Stay the fuck away from me,_ she warned him. He didn’t answer.

She was nearing the end; she could feel it. Though she couldn’t see below her, a shiver crept down her spine as she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable collision of her back with the floor. She wondered how long it would hurt and decided not to dwell on it. Her instincts were screaming at her through the fog of her mind. If she Turned now, she’d be able to control her descent better in wolf form. She could survive this. Maybe.

_Whatever,_ Kamaria thought. _It’s over anyways_.

In the distance she thought she heard the sound of footsteps, but the rush of air in her ears was so unbelievably loud, she dismissed it as the product of her imagination.

What she couldn’t dismiss was the sudden feeling of strong arms enveloping her as Alucard’s body collided brutally with hers and knocked the wind out of her. There was the sudden sensation of falling upwards before they resumed their downwards trajectory and fell to the ground, with much less speed than she’d had previously, but still enough to be uncomfortable. She heard Alucard grunt under her as he bore the brunt of their collision.

She had no idea how long they stayed there, on the ground, trying to steady their breaths. Kamaria’s whole body ached, and her head felt worse than ever. Her forehead felt wet to the touch, and when she pulled fingers away, they were dripped in blood. He’d saved her, she realized. Why save her from the trap _he’d_ made? Kamaria’s brain felt as if it were wading through a thick slosh, trying to make sense of it all. Her thoughts were jagged messes of confusion, and confusion turned to anger and apprehension. Swiftly, she climbed on top of him, reached into her boot, unsheathed her dagger and held it to his neck.

“What the fuck,” she started, breathing heavily, “are you playing at?”

“Kamaria. Let. Go.” His voice was low and menacing, and his eyes watched her with a predator like intensity. She pressed the blade even further.

“You might enjoy toying with your food Alucard, but if you think for a second that I am easy prey—. ” Before she could even think, Alucard knocked the dagger out of her hand and forcefully removed her fist from his hair, before hoisting her up and somewhat forcefully pinning her to the wall. Her arms were outstretched above her, held up by Alucard’s firm grip on her wrists. His other hand was clenched and his face, twisted into a snarl, hovered right above hers.

Then, out of pure folly, Kamaria laced her legs around his waist, pulled him in closer— and headbutted him with all the force she could muster. She immediately regretted it as the pain in her brain exploded upon impact. Alucard’s grip loosened on her wrist as she clutched her head and groaned in pain. He brought a hand up to his nose, and when they came away red his eyes flashed with anger. He wiped the blood away with his sleeve and with both hands, he grabbed her wrists and held them up on either side of her head.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you,” Alucard snarled at her, baring his fangs. _Everything,_ she chuckled inwardly, still locking eyes with his furious gaze. Flashes of frustration mixed with confusion mixed with the adrenaline seized her and her whole body hurt. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to Turn and tear the him into shreds.

Alucard simply stood there, infuriated. His face was twisted in anger, and his fangs gleamed sharply in the darkness. Kamaria’s hairs stood on end and she felt a pressure build up behind her canines. _Rip his throat out. Rip his throat out. Rip his throat out. Rip his throat out. Rip his throat out. Rip his throat—_

She was holding herself back and she had no idea why.

_What the hell is going on?_ She asked herself. She felt… furious and frustrated, but also fatigued and nauseous, and… and— Kamaria had to force herself to concentrate. _Why isn’t he attacking?_ Her eyes searched Alucard’s for a sign of his intentions. Her brain… was on _fire_ she realized, and the harder she tried to concentrate, the more fervent the blaze.

They were still looking at each other, though Alucard’s expression had shifted from sole fury to one containing mild worry. Under his scrutinizing gaze, Kamaria felt… lonely. She remembered their casual playfulness earlier and missed it more than she cared to admit. There were still flares of murderous rage in her mind, and as she struggled to think clearly beyond the pain, she noticed Alucard’s growing concern.

“Kamaria,” he spoke worriedly. “Your eyes—”

_“Your eyes are doing something… bizarre,”_ his voice reverberated painfully in her head, making her wince.

In his mind, she saw herself and noticed them changing back and forth from their habitual dark brown to glowing amber, very erratically. She tried to stop it and felt a slow panic settle in her gut as she failed to control it.

Kamaria let out a shaky breath as a wave of fatigue suddenly overcame her. With not a sliver of energy left to carry on, she slid down to the ground and put her head in her hands.

_What on earth is going on?_

“Alucard?”

“Yes?” The dhampir’s voice seemed far away. He was standing over her, and when Kamaria looked up at him again she noticed his fangs had retreated.

“I think I’m concussed,” she muttered, before slipping into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's been a while. I've started working again so it'll probably be longer between updates. Sorry about that!
> 
> Also boy oh boy, Kamaria does start out this story as kind of a hot mess. But that's why it's a slow burn fic! I promise she gets better

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it and that you're staying safe! Much love <3


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